Blame life. Blame a job. Blame a career. Blame a family. Blame a f#ing big television, Blame washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin can openers. Blame good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Blame fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Blame a starter home. Blame your friends. Blame leisure wear and matching luggage. Blame a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of f#ing fabrics. Blame DIY and wondering who the f# you are on a Sunday morning. Blame sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f#ing junk food into your mouth. Blame rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f#ed-up brats you have spawned to replace yourselves. Blame your future. Blame life
That's a bloody great name, Catkins. I think it costs about 14 quid to get it done by Deed Poll. Imagine a coppers face when he tugs you then asks your name. :D
I blame it on car/van drivers who learn how to pass a test but never actually learn how to drive. (Mostly found cruising around shopping centres at weekends)
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